about
what stays, when nothing else does.
the practice
stillwords is small on purpose. lowercase. unhurried. written the way mornings happen — in fragments, in margins, in the space between two cups of tea.
nothing here is here to convince anyone of anything. the lines that survive a week are the ones that get kept. the rest are released.
no manifesto. no schedule. just the quieter end of language, gathered slowly.
the rhythm
morning.tea.one window.one line at a time.
elsewhere
- instagram@stillwords.poetry
- substackstillwordspoetry.substack.com
- youtube@stillwords.poetry
- a coffeebuymeacoffee.com/stillwords.poetry